Mirrors, Index Cards, and a Red Wig: How I Learned to Believe in Myself

2 days ago
6 min read

In response to My mental health struggles at the time, My therapist suggested I do daily affirmations. I scoffed at that, because... seriously? Daily affirmations? I had crippling depression and an absolutely horrible relationship with My body image. I had heard about daily affirmations, and even though I rolled My eyes, I knew she was right; It couldn't hurt to try.

My therapist told Me to start small, with believable things. So I did.

I pulled out a few index cards and brainstormed some affirmations.

"I am working on practicing healthy habits." True.

"I am working on having a healthy relationship with myself."

Also true. "I love myself regardless of how I look." That one... That was a bit of a fib, but I still felt it was important to write and repeat.

"I am loved, and I have love." True, I have been lucky to have true unconditional love in My life from at least some direction at some time or another.

"I am doing my best." Ouch.

That one felt like a fib, even though I knew it was true.

And the final one, "I deserve the space I take up, regardless of productivity."

That last one wasn't the hardest. The hardest was the "doing my best" one.

This world we've all been born into, this modern world of capitalism and rush rush rush go go go...

It doesn't leave much room for "I'm doing good enough, actually." It doesn't leave much room for "I've done enough, now I deserve a rest."

It doesn't leave much room for... Well, for self-compassion.

I would stand in front of My mirror every day, immediately after waking up, and read the text on the index cards aloud. It was stupid. It was annoying.

It was something I just... didn't want to do.

But I did it anyway.

Each morning, I repeated the lines.

Each day, they became more and more rote.

Each day, they slowly carved a path through My mind, a detour from A to C, avoiding B entirely.

Avoiding the self-loathing, the self-judgement, the ruminative thoughts that sometimes kept Me in bed for whole days.

Avoiding the negative self-talk entirely.

It was slow work.

Difficult work.

Boring and annoying and honestly just stupid-feeling work.

But when it came down to it, I saw the science of Neuroplasticity at work.

I didn't stay with that therapist for long, but if I were to attribute the biggest jump in My mental wellness to any one of the providers in My past, it would be to her.

It was a few months after I first started the affirmations that I had to take them down. I was moving, and I needed to leave the apartment as I found it. I never put the affirmations up in My new place... But they had done their job, or at least jump-started the process.

While the world was handling the COVID-19 pandemic, I joined both Feabie (1) and FantasyFeeder (2), trying to find My space in a world of kink.

I slowly started exploring these spaces, these fat-adoring spaces, and I learned that yes... I do love My body. I do, because once I was able to disentangle the self-loathing society ingrained in Me for always being either chubby to fat...

Once I was in a space where I could truly untie the knot and undo the straitjacket that social expectations had trapped Me in...

Well, I started really existing. I wasn't up to loving Myself just yet. But with some coaxing from new friends and significant people in My life... I was able to start hearing Myself.

I deserve the space I take up, regardless of anything.

It was interesting.

I had spent My entire life so convinced that I wasn't good enough, I wasn't pretty enough, I wasn't skinny enough...

And suddenly, after attending My first BDSM party... I knew. I knew I was never going back to that.

I could so easily see the dungeon space in My mind's eye, and I've only been there just the once. When we walked in, I hurried to the bathroom to change into something more appropriate than My work clothes. It was still an abnormal look in that dungeon, I'm sure, considering how I was still observing My then-solid beliefs in Orthodox Judaism, and desired to remain dressed "modestly".

I broke the rule of wearing red, though. Red is considered to be a "pritzusdika" color, or a color that is, for lack of a better translation at the moment, promiscuous. I wore a black under-shell and a red dress, down to the floor. It was definitely a look, considering the fact that I was also wearing a red wig and a masquerade mask. I was... nervous about being seen.

While I was in the bathroom, changing, My boyfriend at the time secured a seat for Me on one of the two Domme thrones in the room.

When I joined him in the main room, he offered the throne, and I sat down.

Now, it would be super poetic and dramatic to say that that was the moment the switch flipped.

But I can't claim that.

It felt like a throne, yes. I felt empowered.

But I still very much saw Myself as an anomaly, someone who wasn't supposed to be there or really anywhere.

After I sat on the throne for a bit with My boyfriend sitting at My feet, we walked out to the back patio.

It was chilly out, so we sat by the fire pit and started chatting quietly.

There was some mingling happening elsewhere, and another Domme+pet combination was sitting nearby... And I decided it was the appropriate time to hypnotize My boyfriend in public for the first time.

I don't remember all of the suggestions in that play session...

I know that I made him unable to touch himself for pleasure as I spoke, and that I gave him pleasure+pain trigger responses.

I could practically still feel the heat from the flames warming one side as I watched him. Watching his reactions, his responses...

Hearing his whimpers and whines as I toyed with his responses through My hypnotic influence.

It wasn't until after I woke him up and cleared all effects that I realized that we'd gathered a small crowd of observers.

The hostess approached Me, and we chatted for a bit.

We chatted, and she asked if I would be interested in leading a scene at a party the following month.

I was incredibly excited and agreed, but unfortunately those plans were cancelled due to the COVID variant Omicron, but being offered to host a segment at a party while attending the only party I had attended up until that point...

It was intense. It was intense, and it didn't sink in until I was driving somewhere with My boyfriend in the car.

We had talks every so often, where he pointed out how I was more than I thought I was... and My mind refused to believe him.

I knew he saw something, but in My mind, he was delusional.

He was delusional, that crowd of dommes was delusional, the two proDommes we'd double-sessioned with... They were delusional.

I can even tell you the exact exit on the Prospect Expressway we were passing when the epiphany started. (3)

I remember considering the crowd that had gathered.

I remember considering the offer to host the scene.

I remember considering the proDommes we'd interacted with, the people in the industry who seemed to like Me...

And I remember thinking: "At this rate, half of New York is going to be delusional." And suddenly it clicked.

They weren't the ones with distortions... I was.

I realized then:

I wasn't being misperceived; I was misperceiving.

It took work.

Lots of work.

Lots of ongoing work.

It took work to pull Myself out of the tar of self-loathing and self-judgement into who I am today.

You don't start with love; you don't start with the most.

You start with something small.

Something incremental.

Believing in yourself doesn't mean believing that you can climb Mount Everest after a week of training. Believing in yourself means looking in the mirror and saying "Okay, that's me, now what?"

Believing in yourself means finally seeing what others see. Not what you think others see, not what you want them to, hope they do, wish they did...

Believing in yourself means finally saying "I know My abilities. I know what I can do. I know that they can be appreciated, and I know I bring value." You don't need to love yourself.

You don't need to force it.

Eventually...

Well, eventually, eventually you can look in the mirror, no index card in sight, and say "I do enough, I am enough, and I love that enough-ness."